gathers her handmaidens about
her, and stirs lamentations in them all. "So bewailed they Hector, while
yet he lived, within his house; for they deemed that he would no more
come home to them from battle nor escape the fury of the hands of the
Achaeans."

The closing scenes of the dramatic recital time and again present these
three women--Hecuba, Helen, and Andromache. Achilles continues to sulk
away from battle, in spite of Agamemnon's attempt at reconciliation. The
Trojans are winning victory after victory. Achilles's comrade Patroclus
finally gets permission to don the great warrior's armor, and he enters
the conflict. Hector, supposing him to be Achilles, engages with him in
combat and finally slays him. Achilles is overwhelmed with grief at the
death of Patroclus. His lady mother, Thetis, rises from the depths of
the sea to console him, and provides him a suit of armor fashioned by
Hephaestus. Agamemnon and Achilles are reconciled before the assembly of
the Achaeans, and fair-faced Briseis is restored to her lover. She utters
shrill laments over the body of Patroclus, who had been ever kind to
her. Achilles enters the combat, clad in the armor of Hephaestus. Hector
alone dares to face him, and he is slain, and his lifeless body is
dragged behind Achilles's chariot as he drives exultantly toward the
ships. Piteous wailings are heard from the walls, wailings of the aged
Priam, and of the sorrowful Hecuba, whose cry is the full bitterness of
maternal grief.

Within the city, in the inner chamber of her palace, a young wife is
engaged in weaving a double purple web and directing the work of her
handmaidens. Her thoughts are all of her warrior husband, and she has
had a servant set a great tripod upon the fire that Hector might have
warm washing when he comes home out of the battle--fond heart all
unaware how, far from all washings, bright-eyed Athena has slain him by
the hand of Achilles! But suddenly she hears shrieks and groans from the
battlements, and her limbs tremble and the shuttle falls from her hands
to earth. She dreads terribly lest Hector has met his fate at the hand
of Achilles. Accompanied by her handmaidens, she rushes to the
battlements, and beholds his lifeless body dragged by swift horses
toward the hollow ships. Then dark night comes on her eyes and shrouds
her, and she falls backward and gasps forth her spirit; and when at last
her soul returns into her breast, she bewails her own sad lot and that